A moment in You
Time cease when I fall in your spell a moment stretches to eternity— misty breaths stirrings of the heart I surprise myself when I awake to the rhythm of life— A Day has gone past in an hour of the Hand. In such moments, Love I can believe ***
rose tinted lenses blades of grass between the toes puffs of clouds in smoke dappled sunlight seeping in rolling hills of belly laughter butterfly kisses on puckered flowers fur nuzzling in heat fingers softly tracing skin sensational aphrodisiac
Demolish me in your chaos I stand at the precipice of edge of mind waiting for the push to tip over ready for my next step toes meeting air the heart drop fall into nothing and be devoured in you
slippery thing wiggly squiggly dance flitting between these fingers too playful to catch tantalizingly calling me tugging the corners of my lips indulging each other in a chase eternal A game of sheer delight.
Here and gone like barefooted imprints on the sands near the shores There and not there washed away by the waves a secret touch that none feel but two dissolving into one . . .
Everyday Thrum with yourself break apart in a thousand hues a thousand subtle hues more and even more thousand sheer glimmers, then barely perceptible and then something unknown and magical terrible and beautiful
How do I show you, you? There is nothing greater than holding a mirror to give you You.. A few words now cobbled together buffed and shined over and over a shard of a mirror in the form of poetry To show you You..
Someone else will pick up the Music that never ends The baton passed on hand to hand from the relics of the past to now to the whispers of the future A building, a deepening of all that is None know the beginnings nor know the sound of the final note It goes on A…
All I need.
A million stars but I will have only a wick of fire Oceans wide and deep but I will have only a drop Sand dunes as far as the horizon but I will have only a handful Wind blowing through every crevice but I will have only a Breath.. That is all I need to…
Bed of thorns.
There is a bed of thorns I leave around me. With every misstep, misdeed or misword, every missed gesture or missed word, the bed of thorns like sharp talons grow ever sharper Thicker gnarled brambles knotted, twisted around me staked into my skin crucified in perpetual guilt wishing to disappear.. How the knots would fall…